The White Elephant
by Laura Mayfair
Summary: The ever pragmatic Laura Roslin makes a proposal to Bill in hopes of alleviating the tension created by their growing attraction. Rated M just to be safe.


**Note: I do not own "Battlestar Galactica" and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**

**The White Elephant**

Admiral William Adama was tired. In the last few nights he probably hadn't gotten more than three hours of sleep per night-and this was coming off a schedule of even less sleep. He was running on fumes. When Laura Roslin had proposed a last minute meeting to go over distribution lists and resources allocation, he had readily agreed as they definitely had pressing matters to consider. The president sat directly across from him on his large leather sofa, a large stack of folders between them. He listened to her lyrical voice read off excerpts from a requisition form as she paused in between phrases to make eye contact with him above her glasses. He tried to pay attention. For all intents and purposes, he really did. But he found his focus slowly wavering.

Bill found himself staring at the lady's legs. He really, truly hadn't been ogling them until she decided to shift her position, uncrossing and crossing them. She had the most beautiful legs: long and shapely with creamy skin like polished ivory, but undoubtedly much softer. She looked particularly lovely in her lavender suit. Long auburn hair swirled past her shoulders in graceful waves and the admiral wondered what it would feel like to slide his fingers through the silky strands.

Suddenly Bill noticed that the president was no longer speaking. In fact, she was looking at him rather expectantly, her head tilted very slightly to the side. Bill realized that he hadn't heard a thing that she'd said for the past several minutes. He did the only sensible thing a person could do in such a situation. He waited for her to say something else, hoping for a clue that would get him back on track.

The room was silent as Laura Roslin looked him up and down. He almost had the odd impression that she was sizing him up.

_Real classy, Bill. Eying the President of the 12 Colonies in the middle of a meeting like a horny adolescent. Very respectful. You deserve it if she calls you out on it._

"Admiral, I think we should talk frankly," Laura announced, making a clear topic shift as she slowly put down the paperwork that she had been reading from.

_Oh crap._

The president sighed softly and looked up, appearing to gather her thoughts, before looking at him directly in the eyes again.

"Hmmm," she hummed. He loved it when she made that sound. It was so completely unique to her, paradoxically girlish and womanly all at the same time, and for some inexplicable reason, Bill Adama found it utterly adorable and ridiculously sexy. "Well, Admiral…there really isn't any delicate way that I can put this so I'm just coming to come right out and say it."

Bill swallowed hard but looked at her squarely, narrowing his eyes, hoping that he looked serious and intent—rather than looking profoundly guilty for having just been caught admiring her body. He hoped that he looked as if he knew exactly what she had been talking about-which-he didn't. To appear even more nonchalant, he picked up his tea and took a slow sip.

"I've come to the conclusion that you and I should have sex," Laura Roslin announced with unassailable conviction.

Bill Adama spluttered a mouthful of tea all over the front of his uniform and tipped his cup, ending up with a lapful of warm tea.

"I think I misheard you, Madame President," Bill managed hoarsely.

"Judging by your reaction, I believe that—on the contrary—you heard me quite correctly. I realize that my proposal is hardly customary but nevertheless, I think that you'll find my rationale highly reasonable, given the circumstances."

Laura rose from her seat and proceeded to the head, still speaking as she walked.

"Clearly, we both find one another attractive," she called. Her voice grew closer as she reappeared, holding a hand towel. The president of the Twelve Colonies proceeded to kneel in front of the admiral, gently blotting spilled tea from his uniform as she continued to speak to him in her quietly calm and articulate way.

"I think you're a highly attractive man, Admiral. I know that we've had our differences. But underneath all of that, I feel that we have this—" she paused and searched for the right words, "palpable chemistry, a very charged sexual attraction. I myself often find that I'm distracted and a bit off my game when I'm around you because there's this white elephant in the room. Rather than continuing to dance around the subject, I suggest that we meet it head on and just get it out of our systems. Ease the tension between us. I think a good frak just might clear the air, hmmm?"

"I….um…." A flabbergasted Bill Adama was at a complete loss for words.

"Do you find me attractive, Bill?" Her hands continued to blot gently at his thighs through the towel._ It certainly wasn't an intentionally seductive touch, was it?_ She was very carefully and respectfully avoiding his groin and yet, watching Laura Roslin on her knees looking up at him with those beautiful green-grey eyes and her soft hands making feather light contact with his body, was beginning to have a profound effect on his lower anatomy.

Bill promptly conjured up images of 90 year old women with facial hair and acute halitosis. Unfortunately, Laura Roslin's vivid features easily dominated his mental landscape, the lightly fragrant floral scent of her shampoo infiltrating his senses. Laura handed him the towel and moved back to her position sitting across from him.

"Well?" she asked, lowering her head slightly and peering at him imperiously above her eyeglasses. She reminded him of a schoolteacher right then. A gorgeous, sexy delicious schoolteacher that he wanted to hoist up onto his desk and devour.

"Yes, I find you attractive," he acknowledged weakly. "But we both have a great many responsibilities. Given the nature of our professional relationship, your place in the government and mine in the military—I'm not so sure that we can…." Bill was stammering. Laura Roslin was gazing at him like a cat about to pounce and it was doing terrible things to his train of thought. "I mean….I would love to…but…" _When did it get so hot in here? _The Admiral began to perspire.

"I really do understand your reservations, Admiral. I have the same ones, I assure you. And that's why I think that we should plan this carefully." She held up one of her hands. "I'm not suggesting we should tear off our clothes this instant and rush into anything tonight. We'll simply arrange a meeting and….take care of business. "

"But the Fleet—"

"Won't know a thing," she finished triumphantly. "Which is exactly the reason that we plan ahead." Laura looked at Bill as if all of this should be perfectly obvious. She picked up her appointment book and skimmed through the pages. "I have an opening tomorrow at 1500 hours. That would give us roughly an hour and a half. What do you think? That should give us plenty of time for foreplay **and** for the main event."

"You have an opening. An hour and a half..._foreplay_," Bill parroted blankly.

"Really, Admiral—check your availability in your book. I won't have you double booking appointments."

He walked obediently over to his desk and looked at his calendar. "I'm free, Madame president," answered a completely bewildered Bill.

"Excellent," Laura exclaimed breezily. "I think we'll feel much better afterwards. You don't mind if we do it here, do you? You have a lot more room than I do." She looked around. "And a lot more choices of location. We could even try several, if you're so inclined. I'm still pretty flexible."

"That's good to know."

"I'm also on the pill so birth control is completely covered, although given the fact that I am a woman of distinguished years, it's likely a moot point." She seemed to be accessing some sort of mental checklist.

Bill suddenly felt weak in the knees. He leaned against his desk. "Also…good to know." He cleared his throat.

"No history of sexually transmitted diseases. You?"

"No," he answered drily. He still couldn't believe that they were having this conversation.

"Any special requests? I'd like us to make the absolute best use of our time so if you have a particular request," she paused and tapped her watch for emphasis, "let me know and I'll try to work it in." She smirked. "Or maybe I'll just let you work it in, Bill."

Bill choked, "I can't think of anything on the spot…." He could have sworn that she looked disappointed by his apparent lack of erotic creativity.

Laura nodded. "Very well. You think about it—and if you do—come _up_ with anything-just give me a ring and I'll see what I can do to prepare." She paused thoughtfully. "You know, if this goes well, we might be able to set up a schedule. Oh, don't look so shocked, Admiral. We have needs-and given the drastic decline in the population, we don't exactly have a plethora of choices."

Bill suddenly felt like he'd just been picked last in gym class.

"I'm not sure what your preferences are," she continued, "but generally I like it 3 or 4 times a week. I'm probably getting ahead of myself," she giggled.

"Madam president," Bill began firmly, attempting to regain some sense of control over the situation. "don't you think that we should be more spontaneous about this? Not so…pragmatic?"

"We don't really have that luxury, unfortunately," she admonished with a decisive toss of her head. "Precision, Admiral. I can't believe that I have to remind you of the importance of timing and preparedness."

Bill plopped unceremoniously unto the couch in defeat, his mind fuzzy. When he looked up at Laura Roslin again, she was sitting across from him reading from a requisition form. She stopped suddenly.

"You're exhausted, Commander. Let's call it a night and catch up on this tomorrow."

Bill nodded fuzzily and slowly came to his senses. _Great gods of Kobol, I nodded off. Laura Roslin didn't just proposition me._ He wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed. But in the end, as much as he wanted her, if they did end up in bed together, he certainly didn't want their experience to read like the balance sheet of a ledger.

"We have that meeting tomorrow at 1500 hours; we'll squeeze it in then," Laura amended.

Bill froze.

Laura laid a comforting hand on Bill's arm when she saw his stricken expression. "I'm not looking forward to going over all of that fuel data either but it's a necessary evil. You look positively flushed. Please get some rest."

Bill expelled a silent sigh of relief and escorted the president to the door, his fingertips barely grazing her wrist.

"Goodnight, Madame President."

She smiled at him. "Goodnight, Admiral."


End file.
